From the Mind of the Half Blood Prince
by darkhelmetj
Summary: A set of three free verse poems that explore the mindset of the Half Blood Prince, and which touch upon the past and childhood that made him what he is today. Part three, Avada, is posted. Rated T for suggested violence and graphic imagery. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: The character of Harry Potter are the property of JK Rowling. Any familiar characters or situations found herein are copyright or Ms. Rowling and Warner Brothers Pictures. No copyright infringment is intended and none should be inferred. This piece is for entertainment non-profit purposes only. _

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From the Mind of the Half-Blood Prince

A/N: This story is a collection of free verse poems inspired by JK Rowling's character Severus Snape. They were a challenge to myself to write, within the period of an hour and fifteen minutes (the time frame of a very boring university class) as many one page 'stories' as possible. Upon typing them up I realized that they were more poetry than prose - so here they are, presented to you as a collection of three free-versepoems (the first of which is below). I would recommend having a good working knowledge of Snape's character (post HBP specifically) when you read these, for they will be a great deal more enjoyable and make a great deal more sense if you catch the underlying meaning hidden in his words.

This first piece, entitled Sectum, was an attempt to get into Snape's mind as a youth, during the long hours he likely spent trying to perfect his magic. His was far from an enjoyable childhood, however; knowing that, I tried to capture that emotion amongst his logic and frustration at having to use something as stupid as feelings to correctly channel a spell. Being such a rational person, he must also possess a deep emotional core that allows him to tap into his creative side.

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Sectum

I can't get it right.

There's something integral  
To the spell matrix  
That I don't know,  
Something  
I can't seem to find.

It always happens this way.

No matter what I attempt,  
The incantation never  
Comes  
Easily.

It's not the kind of thing  
You discover  
In a routine  
And logical manner.  
Sometimes they appear  
In the strangest  
Of places.

Places  
You'd never  
Think to look.  
It takes an open mind  
To uncover  
Them most of the time.

Sometimes I don't even know  
What the spell  
Is that I'm trying  
To cast.  
When that happens,  
All I have to go on is a

Feeling.

Spell work is like an art.  
A vague, ambiguous idea  
Jumps into your mind  
And sits there,

Waiting

For you to react.  
You don't get any clues.  
Instead, you follow  
Intuition.

You let your mind travel  
On its own,  
Let the feeling  
And the magic  
Surge  
Through your body  
As it tries to find  
The proper conduit.

You can't force it, though.  
Little steps come first.

Words  
On the tongue.  
Pathways  
In the mind.

Until  
You know  
you have it.

Paint on canvas.

Blood

On the wall.

Funny.

It's always a surprise  
What will be created  
When I try to forget  
The world.

This time it's pain.


	2. Shoes

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_Disclaimer: Again, Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers Pictures. This piece is for entertainment non profit use only; no copyright infringement is intended, and none should be inferred. I'm a poor college student anyway, so there's no money to take._

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A/N: This second poem was inspired by the scene from OotP, where Snape is confronted by the Marauders after writing their Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL. He seemed prepared for the fight, almost as if he were expecting it, and I have no doubt that he spent long hours on his own praticising. Yet, I doubt he ever asked anyone else for help, choosing instead of work on his own strength in order to make himself feel better about himself. This piece touches on that, and explores how those thoughts enter his mind - how he fights the argument with himself - even when he doesn't mean to. I see the shoe as a metaphor for his own life - how it's easy to ask for help from others, but not necessarily the best to stand strong on your own.

Thank you whitehound for the fave, and duj for the review! I have a quick question, duj - were you implying good insight about the prose vs. poem decision or about the content of the piece:) I actually thought really hard about keeping it as prose, but I wanted to give it a shot as a poem just to try something different. If you think it would work better the other way, though, I can try the last piece as prose and see how it stands. Thanks!

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Shoes

General recommendation:  
Don't wear shoes when practising  
An ankle hang spell.

You see, if you're out  
Of practice  
You'll accidentally grab  
Your shoe instead  
Of your foot.

The shoe will hang  
On, of course – but only to the point  
That you think  
You're safe.  
Just when you relax,  
When you think you've pulled  
Off an A-grade incantation,

The shoe lets go  
And you drop.

Shoes are sadistic;  
I don't really appreciate  
Their sense of humour much.  
Granted, they keep  
Your feet  
From hurting,  
But what's not to say they make  
Your soles too soft?

Feet can fend  
For themselves.  
A few calluses  
Never hurt  
Anyone.

That's why I'm practising;  
I'm not about to hide  
In a stupid shoe  
And disappear.

Preparation is the key.

Rocks don't hurt  
If you kick  
Them out  
Of the way  
First.

Damn spell.

These shoes  
are coming off.


	3. Avada

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_Disclaimer: The character of Harry Potter are the property of JK Rowling. Any familiar characters or situations found herein are copyright or Ms. Rowling and Warner Brothers Pictures. No copyright infringment is intended and none should be inferred. This piece is for entertainment non-profit purposes only. _

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A/N: Thanks so very much to duj for reviewing. :) I'm glad to hear that you've enjoyed these so far. They're such a small sample of what I've written about Snape, but I can't post any of the rest until the stories are actually complete. I've taken your suggestion and moved this last submission into normal prose - hope you like it. :) It definitely reads differently this way, but I think it works better in the prose format now that I see it set up that way.

Being one that was taunted and bullied during his school years, Severus Snape isn't a foreigner to the words expectations or anger. I can imagine a certain Dark Lord seizing upon that naivette and turning it towards dark deeds that Snape now regrets. The first Death Eater mission, especially, must have been harrowing, as Voldemort watched to see if his young protege was up to the challenge.

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Avada

Spells seem to vary in difficulty level depending on your mood. All those times when I sat in class, under pressure, during test-time . . .

I was doomed.

No one can be expected to work under those conditions. I can't do it.

I can't, until I realise how much time is left. That's the point when I panic, when survival mechanisms kick in. That's when I really lose myself in my work.

Oh yeah.

There's nothing like inspiration to get the magic working. Normal pressure doesn't always cut it – if you want a spell to work right, you have to channel it.

That's what tests do. They make you find the right mindset, the right feeling, and the right power for the right words.

Sometimes spells don't come easily; I can't find the energy, or I don't want to take the time to find it. Sometimes I have better things to do than worry about perfecting a stupid little spell. I don't care at times like these.

But sometimes I do.

That's when they come easily, like popping the cork on a bottle of wine and pouring it out for the world to see. Red liquid, spilling on the ground, running into the cracks, turning the dust into mud.

Easy, right?

It is, especially when you hate the wine as much as I do. Cheap, dirty stuff.

That's why I'm here right now. That's why I'm doing this, why I have someone breathing down my neck waiting for me to screw up. Only, this test is so much easier than the ones I wrote at school. I know what I have to do, and I'm not afraid to do it. This is one exam that I'm actually prepped for, with material I've had taught to me my entire life –

Hatred.

It's time to break another bottle.


End file.
